Thursday, February 19, 2015

XLII

The more I think about being born in February, I'm convinced my mother planned it that way, neatly nestled in the vast dead period between football season and the next football season.  I was a month early, but still it was post-Super Bowl.  I'm sure her thinking was, "OK, football's over, The Waltons is a rerun this week, let's go ahead and get this over with."

Sometime last week, the calendar reminded me I had clicked off another year.  Forty-two.  Which doesn't seem all that significant until you learn that is exactly one third of the way to my goal of one hundred twenty-six.

You think Betty White is a riot in her nineties?  Just wait until Bone in his hundred-aughts, and hundred-teens.  Hilarity shall ensue.

This also marked the year I officially turned into my dad with regards to gift requests.  I couldn't think of a single thing I wanted/needed.

Save for t-shirts.

And socks.  (I refuse to ask my mother to buy me underwear.)

No one makes a big deal about your age when you're my age.  I mean, I'm already old enough to run for President.  I can't get my AARP membership for eight more years (though judging by the number of mail-outs I have been receiving for awhile now, their advance recruitment efforts are unequaled).

Turning forty-two, it isn't like anyone says, "Ooo, you're twice the legal drinking age!  Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

But it's not bad.

My birthday morning started with a call from Nephew Bone, who serenaded me with "Happy Birthday."  Minutes later, I played my highest-scoring word ever in Words With Friends (not against Nephew Bone).  The word ("stripier") wasn't all that impressive, but the 149 points was decent.  I basked in the afterglow of that achievement clean through lunch.  (Some would suggest I'm still basking.)

With grave apologies to the Hemingway estate, I suppose you could say the remainder of my birthday was a moveable feast.

Birthday night was dinner out with my dad and step-mom at a Mexican restaurant.  I had the shrimp burrito.  Then Friday night, we drove up to Nashville to meet friends at Famous Dave's.  Ribs, catfish, collard greens, and slaw.  Things wound down with Sunday dinner at mom's, or as I like to call it, Fat Sunday.  There were pork chops, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, cucumber salad, and more.

Desserts sampled at one point or other during the four-day Carnival de Cholesterol included chocolate cake, apple cobbler, pineapple upside down cake, and a glazed creme-filled doughnut from Krispy Kreme.  (Hey, it's right by the Famous Dave's!  I was raised that when you're that close to a Krispy Kreme, it's impolite and possibly even sinful not to go.)

For Lent, I'm giving up my aversion to angioplasty.  Evidently.

I'm sure everyone says the same thing, but I don't feel forty-two.  I feel twenty-five.  Granted, a twenty-five-year-old who struggles to stay up past 10 p.m. most nights.  But also one who has grown to appreciate the value of life's simpler pleasures, like long naps, sunsets, liquid Maalox.

And new socks.

Here's to the next eighty-four years.

"The truth about a mirror / Is that a damned old mirror / Don't really tell the whole truth / It don't show what's deep inside / Or read between the lines / And it's really no reflection of my youth..."

16 comments:

  1. I think I may have gained 42 pounds just reading this?

    Hope you had a wonderful birthday, Bone. Here's to the next 84.

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    1. I know. On the plus side, I may soon be getting my own area code.

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  2. Twice the legal drinking age! If that is the numerator I should be able to drink twice what I could at 21... or at least that is what I will tell everyone. In reality, I think the 2 is the denominator and I can drink half of what I could at 21... or less. Can't wait to turn the big 42 in a few months thanks to this post! Happy Birthday Bone!

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    1. Thanks, Ed. I'm not sure about the fractions, but as far as subtraction goes, it doesn't seem like 21 could possibly have been 21 years ago.

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  3. Eating your way through a birthday weekend is a great way to celebrate! Happy birthday!

    149 points is awesome. Love that game!

    If the hot light is on, I also think it's practically sinful to not stop, but otherwise, I can pass :) Enjoy the rest of your birthday month!

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    1. I believe driving past a Krispy Kreme and not stopping when the hot light is on is technically a misdemeanor in 17 states :)

      Thanks, Ally.

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  4. Happy Birthday. I agree with Ally, eating your way through your birthday is a lovely way to celebrate. I mean, you're not eating like that all the time, so why not treat yourself on your birthday!!

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  5. Belated happy XLII birthday, Bone. I have LX coming up later this year and I also still feel 25. May that always be so.

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    1. Thank you. And I'll second that!

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    2. WHY must you people continue to use Roman Numerals?!?!?!

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  6. Well, I just turned LXIII and also feel 25 except for when I forget... TC, Roman Numerals are kept alive by the NFL and my use of them is an attempt from them claiming copyright over them like they do everything else... I still feel old every superbowl when I recall that I was eight for the first one... Here's to many more birthdays, Bone!

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  7. Have you asked your mother if she planned it this way? Or is that like letting her buy you underwear?

    Ever since I moved here I've been getting calls for "as a supplement to your Medicare," or something to do with Medicare or being a senior over 65---sometimes bombarded with messages.

    I get all angry because really don't rush the hopefully inevitable.

    I'll know I'm demented the day I actually answer one of those calls and wait for an actual human to speak. Or I won't know.....

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  8. Oh I love your homage to Cooper!

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  9. Oh no,I missed wishing u a very happy birthday??! How'd that get away from me? Wwf needs to do the fb birthday alert thing! It sounds like u had a great celebration. Glad you still feel so young even in your poppin Marc Anthony grown up duds. Wishing u many more happy healthy years! Was that 149 on our game? If so I didn't notice because you're always SMOKIN me. Best wishes uncle bone 💙

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